A glass shaped bottle laid back on rustic cotton
A bubble wrapped vessel to empty itself from at night
The game of balance determines if it’s to tip
With weighted options she tends to spill
A figure born to withhold thunderstorms
She’s from a place where rain pours down more often than not
You travel the barren sand alone
Allowing the winds to pick up the pieces you’ve left buried
They whisper of an oasis manifested from her love
A part of her shes left just for you
But you’re a traveller at heart and there’s many treasures to uncover in the dunes of your world
And she’ll always be your oasis if time calls you back to her.
But tell me…
In the heat of your mirage
Do you weep for the life she can provide?